


Gingerbread

by zaffrin



Series: Master of the House [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 1950s, 1950s housewife, Chameleon Arch (Doctor Who), Dubious Consent, F/M, Figging, Light Dom/sub, Master of the House, fifties era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27941546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffrin/pseuds/zaffrin
Summary: “You know,” her husband sounds thoughtful, “ginger has some… interesting properties.”“Oh yeah,” Thea nods as she rolls out the dough. “It’s great for colds and coughs. And you can make a face cleanser from it too. Good for all sorts, ginger.”“Hmm not quite what I was thinking of, but yes.”She gives him a curious glance. “No?”
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: Master of the House [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046137
Comments: 21
Kudos: 53





	Gingerbread

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! An early Christmas fic for you! This is part of my story "Master of the House" and takes place in that universe where the Doctor has chameleon arch-ed herself and ended up as a housewife in the 1950s, with the Master as her 'husband'. Because of this, its very much dubious consent territory so please be warned if that's not your thing. 
> 
> For those who have read MotH, this takes place in the long gap between chapters 18 and 19, in December. Please read the tags as always with my works, this one contains figging which involves the use of a root of ginger so if that's not your thing you might wanna avoid :P
> 
> One more quick note - if you wanna see what Thea’s dress looks like in this in my head it’s here!: https://ibb.co/7bQj3kh

Humming softly to herself, Thea Smith sprinkles some flour on the counter before dropping her lump of dough onto it to knead it firmly. Her skirts sway about her shins as she leans into the movement, and she blows away an errant strand of hair that’s escaped the cloth she’d wrapped round it from her face. 

The loose curl refuses to budge, and she pushes at it before realising she’s smudged flour on her face. Giving a huff, Thea wipes her hand on the apron she’d tied round her waist to keep her red and green tartan dress clean, before rubbing at her face and tucking the offending strand of hair firmly up in to her makeshift head band. 

“What you making?”

“Oh - hello darling,” she throws her husband a smile over her shoulder as he wanders into the kitchen. “Gingerbread. I found some lovely little cookie cutters down the market for them, couldn't resist.”

“Gingerbread?” He peeks over her shoulder, sniffing. “With… real ginger?”

“Of course with real ginger,” she chuckles. Can’t make gingerbread men without ginger.”

She breaks off a tiny piece of the dough and offers it to him. “Want to taste?”

He backs away rather abruptly. “No, no. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Thea shrugs and pops the little piece in her mouth instead, going back to kneading it out. 

“If I’ve enough left over I was going to try making a little house. I’ve always wanted to make a gingerbread house. Did you ever read that story when you were little?”

“What?”

“About the children and the witch in the woods,” she chatters as she works, “You must have done? A whole house made out of gingerbread, with little candy canes for window frames… I wonder if that’s where the idea of making a gingerbread house came from. What do you think?”

“Hmm,” he comments, sounding distracted. She throws him a glance over her shoulder. 

“Are you listening to me?”

“No,” he answers, and Thea gives a huff, rolling her eyes. Well, she supposes, at least he was honest. 

She opens her mouth to chastise him when she sees O reaching round her, and glances round as he picks up the little pot she has the ground ginger in and gives it a tentative sniff. 

“Hm,” he comments, setting it back down.

“Did you need something?” Thea prompts, a hint to leave her to bake in peace unless he had a reason for being out here. 

“You know,” he sounds thoughtful, as he ignores her question, “ginger has some… interesting properties.”

“Oh yeah,” she nods. “It’s great for colds and coughs. And you can make a face cleanser from it too. Good for all sorts, ginger.”

“Hmm not quite what I was thinking of, but yes.”

Thea gives him a curious glance. “No?”

O shakes his head before stepping over to her, hands sliding over her waist. She smiles, leaning back into him as she works the dough, his body warm and solid against her back. 

Thea reaches over for the rolling pin and feels his lips on the side of her neck. 

“Mmm,” she hums as she begins to roll out the dough, “you keep doing that I’m not going to get this finished,” she quips. She feels his lips curve into a smile against her neck, and then the light scrape of his teeth. She bites her lip and elbows him gently. “I’m serious darling,” Thea breathes.

“So am I.”

“About what?”

He doesn’t reply, just let’s his tongue dart out to flick against her neck as his hands tighten on her waist. She gives a huff.

“I need to get this made. - O!” She gives a gasp when one of his hands slips down between her legs to squeeze her there through her dress. She gives a breathless laugh when he shifts the hand to her hip, and elbows him again. “Leave off, you’re an awful distraction.”

“Good,” he growls into her ear, and Thea feels her breath starting to come quick, and licks her lips. “Let… let me finish making this first, then…” she trails off when Oscar starts to suck at the side of her neck. Her eyelids flutter.

“Then?” He prompts.

“Then I’ll be all yours.”

His hands move and he cups her between the legs again, squeezing her cunt and her breast at the same time. “You’re already all mine.”

She huffs out a laugh. “Yes but - ah - I need to get this in the oven if I’m going to, mmmm - going to get them d-done on time…”

He speaks directly into her ear in a low voice. “Oh time for what?”

“They’re for the Christmas bake sale this afternoon,” she tries not to gasp as her husband grinds his hips into her backside. “I told Margaret I’d be there early with them to help set up…”

“Margaret can wait.”

His mouth is warm and wet on her neck, and he sweeps her hair to the side and kisses just under her ear where he knows she likes, his breath hot and shallow in her hair.

Thea realises she’s stopped rolling the dough, and gives herself a little jolt, hastily resuming her task. As good as he feels against her back, she’s busy right now and it wouldn’t do her gingerbread any good to go getting distracted so easily.

“Give me ten minutes to get these in the oven.” She says, trying to sound firm. It does no good; her husband ignores her, large hand slipping under the front of her dress so he can flick a thumb over her nipple as he grasps her breast.

“You feel good like this,” he rumbles against her throat. “Soft…”

“I’m the same as I always am,” she quips back.

“Hm,” he comments.

Thea bites her lip as both his hands go to her skirts. “Darling I really need to get on…”

He kisses her neck again wordlessly. 

“Oscar,” she warns lowly as he starts drawing her dress up her thighs. She pushes at it half-heartedly but he bats her hands away, dragging it up until he can slip his hands beneath and smooth his palms over her bare thighs at the top of her stockings. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she feels his fingers dance up over her underwear. “O,” she breathes out with a puff of air.

“Hmm?”

“This isn’t - really the time,” she gets out with slightly stuttered breath as he rubs lightly at her clit through the thin material. She’s growing wet rapidly, and she curses him in her head.

“The time is when your husband wants you,” he replies, voice soft despite the heated undertone. He slips a hand inside her panties. “And you’re husband wants you  _ now…” _

Thea’s jaw slackens and her eyelids flutter shut as he slides a finger through her folds, circling her clit. She squeezes the dough in her hands, leaning her weight on the countertop as O draws out her wetness and spreads it, whispering things in her ear that make her knees go weak and her breath stutter. 

With nimble fingers, he unclips her stockings then slides her underwear down her thighs, letting it drop to the floor. She steps out of them automatically, and gets an approving hum against her ear as he caresses her in reward. 

Resigned to letting this happen (she can still get the baking done on time if they just get this over with quick, she assures herself) Thea is shifting her legs apart, head tilting back against O’s shoulder as her husband pleasures her with his fingers. Expecting him to bend her over and take her like this (it wouldn’t be the first time, after all), she is surprised when instead he withdraws his hand from beneath her skirts abruptly, pinning the bunched material in place up around her waist with the other, and lifting his hand to his mouth. She turns her head to see him stick his fingers in his mouth and suck them noisily, then watches as he reaches forward and - dips the pads of them in the little bowl of ginger powder? 

“What are you -“

Thea’s confusion turns to startled alarm when her husband brings that hand underneath her skirts again and -  _ rubs  _ the ginger all the way up along her slit, finishing on her clit before moving his hand away again.

“I - why did you - you ju— _ ah! _ ” She gasps as an abrupt burning sensation bursts to life between her legs. “Ah -  _ ah - O!  _ It hurts, it’s  _ burning, _ ” she squeaks, voice frantic as her knees go weak, flaring heat erupting from where he’d smeared the ginger. Her hands go to fly down to herself but O is pinning them in place, each of his own tight around her wrists so she can only clutch at the counter edge as she gasps. 

“Shhh, hush,” he rumbles against her ear, “don’t make such a fuss, there’s a good girl.” 

“It burns! O -“

“It’s perfectly safe love. Trust me.”

“It still burns!” She exclaims in a high voice. The sensation, whilst alarming hadn’t really been that intense at first, but it’s building steadily, the stinging burn ramping up with each passing minute as O holds her against the counter, hands roaming her body now and squeezing her breasts through her dress. 

She’s trembling by the time he turns her and lifts her by the waist, placing her on the flour dusted countertop as she gasps.

“O,” she pants, squirming as he nudges her knees apart. “Shit, it really hurts, please…”

“You can take it,” he smirks at her, before tossing her skirts up around her waist.

“O -“

“Hold,” he orders, and her shaking hands go to her skirts, gathering the rest of them as she sits with her legs spread, hardly daring to move for the near unbearable sensation between her legs. 

“Please,” she whispers as he slides his hands up over her thighs. 

“Please…?”

Thea bites her lip, squeezing her eyes shut and shifting restlessly on the counter. They have a ‘safe word’, for situations like this now, and she knows that she only needs to utter it for O to stop this, and she’s tempted - but at the same time…

Something in her is responding to the pain he’s inflicting on her in this way, and it isn’t a negative response. She’s soaking wet, dripping through the burn, the sharp, hot tingling sensation making her cunt twitch and clench, and she’s already desperate for relief. That isn’t to say she’s not a little scared of how much further he’ll push her, or how much more she can take, but… she doesn’t hate that edge of fear. It’s something she’s beginning to understand about herself and them. 

Thea opens her eyes, and they lock with O’s dark ones. He is watching her intently, pupils dilated. “Please,” she repeats.

He grins at her then, delight on his face, and Thea’s heart pounds as she watches him suck his finger then reach around her to dip it into the ginger again.

O reaches between her legs with his other hand, and rubs his fingers over her burning cunt just once, making her gasp at the sensation, before he spreads her lips with two fingers.

He leans in, and Thea feels him carefully pull back the hood of her clit. She’s whimpering in anticipation by the time the ginger coated fingertip reaches her, and when he presses it to her clit, rubbing the substance directly onto the engorged little nub, she nearly cries.

Her mouth falls open, and her thighs start to tremble, muscles in her pelvis tightening against the burn.

“O,  _ fuck, _ ” she pants, chest heaving, clutching at his shirts. His hand smooths along her thighs, and he steps in closer to her as her fist twists in his collar, body squirming on the countertop. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he smirks, mouth close to hers, his breath hot on her lips as she breathes shallowly. 

“It burns,” Thea whimpers. 

“Yeah?”

Squeezing her eyes shut briefly, she nods. Her eyes fly open again when O shifts against her, and she feels his fingers glide over her, making her body jolt as a flash of heat goes through her, the burn on her sensitive flesh flaring.

“Feels like you’re enjoying it though,” he smirks at her.

“It… it feels…  _ fuck,  _ it burns so much, I can’t take it…”

“Yes you can.”

“No,” she squirms, whimpering, “O please, get it off…”

“Not just yet, love,” he answers infuriatingly.

“ _ Please!  _ Please take it off, it hurts -“

“Shh,” he hushes her, kissing her open mouth. His hands on her thighs, he tugs, pulling her lower body to the counter edge tight to his own so he’s nestled snugly between her legs, and then he grinds his hips forward into her own.

She cries out against his mouth as the rough material of his trousers rubs against where she’s burning, making her feel like she’s on fire between her legs. He does it again and she chokes on a sob, hands clenching so tight in his shirt her knuckles go white.

“That’s it,” he breathes against her mouth, his hands going to her backside beneath her dress to aid his movements and he starts grinding into her rhythmically. “Don’t come yet,” he warns, and Thea gasps, clutching at him desperately, her cunt on fire and a powerful orgasm building rapidly between her legs 

“I can’t - darling please - I’m gonna -“

“Not yet,” he repeats firmly, squeezing her arse in his hands as he grinds the bulge in his trousers into her tortured sex, and Thea can’t stop the climax from ripping through her.

She cries out wordlessly, her whole body shuddering, coming so hard her head spins, and the intense burning on her cunt seems to prolong the effects, make it impossible to come down as her body contracts against the sensation, leaving her a quivering wreck as she gasps for air.

Her hands push him desperately away when she can’t take any more pressure on her clit, and she can scarcely gulp any air into her lungs through the sensation. 

“Get it off, please!” She gasps. 

Her husband's hands go to her shaking thighs. “I told you not to come yet.”

“Oscar!”

He moves a hand between her legs and she jerks away. “ _ Please -  _ biscuits!”

She’s never actually used the safe word he’d given her before and he looks slightly stunned, staring at her with a slack jaw for a moment, and Thea thinks for one horrible second that he isn’t going to listen to her - before he pulls himself away hurries across the kitchen.

He grabs a cloth and sticks it under the tap before hastily wiping between her legs, and she nearly cries at the relief of the cold damp material where she’s on fire. She grabs it off him and clutches at it, pressing it desperately to her burning cunt, panting hard.

“Get it all off, please,” she whimpers, and O grabs her another wet cloth to replace that one with before he hastily fills a mug with cold water.

“Take your hand away,” he says gruffly as he approaches her, and Thea does so, leaning back to let him carefully pour the water over her between her legs.

It’s all over the counter and the floor, but Thea couldn't care less at the instant relief it brings her, tipping her head back with a sigh as her husband carefully washes the damnable substance off her.

“Fuck,” she breathes out, and when she locks eyes with him, both of them panting, she suddenly finds herself laughing. 

He raises his eyebrows at her. “You good then?”

Thea nods, biting her lip and taking the fresh wet cloth he offers her, pressing it between her legs. “Yeah. It… it felt good?” She says, like a question, still a little overwhelmed by the intense sensation. It  _ had  _ felt incredible when she’d come. Her cheeks flush. “It just - the burning got really bad after I came…”

“After you came, hm,” O comments, eyes roaming over her form in a scrutinising way that sets her on edge. He drags his gaze from the wet cloth she has pressed between her legs up over her torso to her face before locking eyes with her again. “Which you did, even though I told you not to.”

Thea inhales sharply, eyes going wide and lips parting. “I -“ her heart starts to pound. “I didn’t mean to,” she utters, breathless as he steps in closer to her. His hands go to her stocking covered thighs, resting on them, fingertips fiddling with the tops. His shirt is rumpled and creased from her desperate hands before.

“What you meant to do is hardly the point here, love. You disobeyed me.”

She licks her lips nervously. “O -“

Her words halt when he reaches round her onto the counter, retrieving something and holding it up for her to see. He smiles, and Thea’s stomach flips as she eyes the ginger root clasped in his fist.

“No,” she utters lowly, shrinking back. She’d back away but she’s rather trapped on the counter, her knees either side of her husband’s hips. 

“No?” He smirks.

Her eyes flick between the root and his face. “You can’t be serious!” She squeaks. 

“Oh I’m very serious, love. You know me.”

Thea shakes her head frantically. If the ground version felt that intense on her labia and her clit she can only  _ imagine _ what the root would feel like inside her. There’s still a dull tingling between her legs as it is, and she presses the cool cloth more firmly against herself, covering her delicate sex from him as he eyes her with a glint in his eye and a devilish smirk. 

“Come on,” he drawls, “it’s not so bad.”

“How would you know!” She squeaks. “You don’t have one of these!” She jabs a finger at her crotch and a grin tugs at O’s lips. 

“I wasn’t going to put it  _ there _ , love.”

“You -  _ oh _ .” Her jaw hangs slack as her stomach flips and her heart starts beating even faster. Her whole body has reacted to his words -  _ damn him -  _ she’s wet again. She isn’t sure she ever really came down from the last build, and she squirms, trying to resist the urge to grind against the washcloth as she presses it against herself. But  _ still _ . What he was suggesting was… intense - even for him.

“O, I don’t -“

Her breath catches in her throat when he leans in closer, his lips going to her neck, kissing her there as he strokes his free hand over her thigh beneath her skirts.

“You can say it again.”

The words are so quiet by her ear Thea almost doesn’t catch them. But their meaning washes through her like a wave of comfort, and a large dose of her anxiety fades away. She could stop this if she wanted. 

_ Did  _ she want to?

A part of her is horribly curious, her heart racing with excitement at what he was suggesting even as dread fills her gut and sits thick and heavy in her belly. Thea is still learning about the part of herself that rushes with adrenaline and floods her underwear when O pins her down or ties her up or hurts her with his teeth or his nails or the palm of his hand… she hadn’t known that sex could be that way, and it’s been a rocky road, learning to balance on that line taking their past into account - especially when she’s still never quite certain she can fully trust her unpredictable husband. But she’s learning, and Thea is feeling more sure of herself and her desires every day.

So, instead of saying that word again, she swallows, and takes a breath. “I know.”

She hears O giving a soft groan, and when he pulls back he’s grinning at her, his dark eyes bright with approval. Her cheeks flush, and her pride swells a little.

He reaches round and opens the drawer with the cutlery, grabbing out her potato peeler before nudging it shut. Then he gives her a loaded glance, eyes twinkling, before he lifts the ginger root and gets to work. He makes her watch as he stands there between her legs, slowly and carefully peeling the longest finger of the root, using a knife to pear off the lumps and smooth the surface, and Thea feels her chest heave as she stares at his hands, her stomach fluttering with nerves, heart pounding and arousal thrumming through her anew.

He holds it up when he’s done, appraising the smooth shape with a smirk before he steps back.

“Jump down,” he tells her.

Legs a bit shaky, Thea hops off the counter, and O reaches down to take the cloth she still holds between her legs from her, tossing it aside.

“Turn around.”

Her legs are  _ definitely  _ shaking now, as she whirls round to face the counter and clutches it with white knuckles as her husband throws her skirts back up around her waist. He pushes her with a hand between her shoulder blades, and Thea bends until her chest is flat on the counter and her backside is exposed to the air of the kitchen.

“I don’t - I don’t know about this,” she pants, apprehension rising inside her as she feels O smooth a hand over her bottom. She goes to push herself up but he presses her firmly back down. “O, I just -“

“Hush,” he tells her. “You need to learn how to behave, and do as you’re told.”

She bites her lip to suppress a protest, and her hips twitch when she feels a finger draw a line up from her slick sex to her arse, and she gives a small sound when she feels O start to circle the tight ring of muscle there purposely.

She’s let him put a couple of fingers inside her there before, but no more, and the sensation is still new enough for Thea to tense against it as he starts to press one inside. She leans forward, arching her back a bit, and O hums behind her. “Good,” he rumbles. “Stay still now.” She hears him spit on his fingers, then rub them over her getting her slippery, and then something larger and differently textured to a finger is pressing against her as he spreads her cheeks with his other hand, and Thea holds her breath. 

Like with the powder, the sensation isn’t instantaneous, and O has pressed the peeled finger of the root of ginger almost all the way into her arse before the sudden shock of burn kicks in. She gasps, muscles clenching, which makes the burning sensation intensified tenfold, and Thea cries out, hands clutching at the counter.

“ _ Ah -  _ no, it burns! It really burns, O -“

He prods at the root nestled in her arse, squeezing one of her cheeks in his other hand. “Hush,” he says. “This is what you get for disobeying me. And you’re going to take it like a good girl now, aren’t you?”

Choking on a gasp, Thea nods as tears sting in her eyes. She squirms where she stands, shifting restlessly as if to try and escape the feeling, whimpering at the intense burn that’s spreading all the way through her lower body, making her legs weak and her stomach muscles clench tight.

“Oscar,” she whispers, “please…”

“What’s that love?”

“Please,” she repeats.

“Please…?”

She takes a shuddering breath. “Take it out, please…”

“But we haven’t even started yet,” he drawls, and strokes a hand over her backside. He grips a cheek in each hand and pulls them apart before pressing them together, then giving her a light swat that makes her clench in surprise. She gasps as the root inside her is squeezed, and the burn turns into an inferno. 

He taps the root with his finger, then pushes it a little further in, and Thea squeezes her eyes shut as she shifts restlessly.

“Still feeling like you want to disobey me?” He asks, his voice practically a purr. Oh, he was enjoying this, the bastard. Thea takes a shaky breath.

“No,” she answers quietly.

“Going to do as I say now then?”

She swallows, hips wriggling as she tries to force herself to remain still, knowing the movement was only making it worse.

“Yes,” she whispers. She hears rustling behind her, the sound of Oscar undoing his trousers. 

He was going to take it out before he fucked her, right?

“Are you going to take my cock now like a good little wife?”

She inhales sharply. Perhaps not. “I…”

His hand squeezes on her behind, and then smacks her cheek, making her clench tight around the root again. She gasps.

“Can’t hear you, love.”

“Yes,” she whimpers. 

“Yes what?”

Thea licks her lips, knowing what he wants her to say. “Yes Master,” she breathes. 

Oscar groans, and Thea feels his hand flex on her backside, squeezing her, as he thrusts against her, cock sliding over her. She knew he loved it when she called him that when they were together like this, and quite honestly… something deep inside her always responds to her use of the word too. It’s like… something familiar almost, that she can’t quite put her finger on. He nudges at her entrance, and begins to press inside, distracting her from her thoughts as she gives a groan and tilts her hips back to accept him. 

Her arse still burns as he stretches her cunt out, and it makes everything feel so much more intense. Particularly as she can still feel the residue of the powder on her vulva as well, a dull sting that while bearable, is a heady reminder of the sensation he’d inflicted on her there.

Her mouth is open as he starts to thrust, and Thea lets herself collapse down on the counter, cheek resting on the cool, flour-dusted surface, as a wash of sensations rack her body. 

It’s a  _ lot _ . O isn’t being gentle, and each punishing thrust sends his hips smacking into her backside which makes her clench, and everytime she does so the burning inside her seems to intensify until she feels as though she can hardly draw a breath and nearly begs him to take it out again. 

There’s a little puddle of wet pooling beneath her face, which Thea realises with a start is a mixture of tears and drool - neither which she had realised was escaping her. When she feels O pause and sees him reach forward and dip his fingers in the bowl of ground ginger, she inhales sharply and holds her breath. 

Her withdraws from her, leaving her cunt clenching around nothing, and pauses, both of them panting. 

“O, please,” she murmurs. Her legs are shaking and her stomach muscles are clenched tight in anticipation and she doesn’t know if she can take much more. O braces a hand on her backside, and then rubs his ginger-coated fingers over her clit, and Thea lets out a sob. 

He’d put more on this time, and within seconds it’s like a fire has erupted on her over-sensitised clit. She tries not to let her body contract against the sensation, knowing it would only make the burning worse where the root was gripped inside her, but her body gives an involuntary shudder, then O is shoving back inside her and she shrieks. 

“Let’s see if you can do as you’re told this time,” he pants as he fucks her, fingers rubbing over her clit, massaging the damnable substance into her. Her legs are threatening to give way and everything is coiling and building low in her body. 

“O?”

“You don’t come until I say you can.”

She gasps, body clenching again, and squeezes her eyes shut as tears leak from beneath her lids. 

“I - I can’t,” she chokes out. “I’m so close -”

“ _ No.” _

Thea takes a deep breath and tries to switch off from the sensations crashing through her like a tidal wave. She wants to do as he says - he loves denying her in this way and Thea would be lying if she told herself she didn’t get a kick out of letting him control her like this. Sometimes she turned it on him - when he was in her mouth or she was rolling her body over him, contracting her inner muscles expertly around him, having demanded he hold off until she said he could come, and the rush of thrill when she told him to let go and felt him climax on her command was like no other. She wants to give that to him too. 

He’s thankfully stopped rubbing her clit, but the burning there is deep and intense, and he’s pounding into her so hard the sounds of his hips smacking against her is loud in the kitchen. The root in her arse is burning so badly it makes the tears keep coming, and she tries to focus on that, on the painful burning sensation and not the pleasure that’s coursing through her at the same time. 

A sound closer to a growl than a moan falls from Oscar’s mouth when he comes inside her, his hands so tight on her hips she is sure she’ll be bruised tomorrow, and Thea is shaking all over when he withdraws from inside her. 

“Please,” she whimpers, and utter relief floods through her when he slides the ginger root out from her arse. 

“O,” she utters shakily, breathless, “ _ please…” _

“Please what?” He answers, just as out of breath as he slides a hand over her backside. “You want to come?”

“ _ Yes _ … I need to - please!”

“Please what?”

“Master,” she answers quickly, “Please Master…”

“ _ Good girl _ ,” he breathes, and then Thea feels him sinking to his knees behind her. “Guess you really learnt your lesson, hm?”

His breath is hot on her burning cunt, and she gasps. “Yes! Yes Master…  _ please _ .”

The first swipe of his hot tongue is both agony and bliss rolled into one. It  _ burns _ , she swears his tongue is made of molten lava as it laps at her clit and glides up to circle her entrance, and she gasps and moans and whimpers, her eyes screwed shut as she tries to get a grip on the sensations. It’s almost too much, and her knees buckle when he sucks on her clit, but O’s hands are tight on her hips and he doesn’t let her fall, holding her there against the counter as he tongues at her rapidly until she can do nothing but moan. 

Something presses against her arse and her whole body tenses, breath catching on a sob as she thinks it’s the ginger root again and doesn’t think she can  _ bear _ that - but then two of his slickened fingers are pressing in where she’s still burning as he sucks on her clit and it’s all  _ so much _ \- 

“You can come now,” he murmurs against her, right into her cunt, and that’s all it takes for the climax to grip ahold of her and send her plummeting into an abyss of pleasure. 

Thea feels like she’s falling. Her head spins and her eyes roll back, body shuddering and clenching wildly, and she doesn’t know if she’s sobbing or screaming, but her voice is hoarse by the time she feels like she can take a breath again. 

She’s slumped on the floor, and she doesn’t remember how she got there, but she’s so very grateful for her husband’s gentle hands pushing a cool damp cloth between her legs where she sits collapsed back against him. His arms wrap around her, and she clutches at the hand that holds the cloth between her legs, letting her head drop back against his shoulder as he gives a low chuckle by her ear and presses a kiss to her sweat-damp hair. 

They sit there for a while, both getting their breath back, Thea focusing on the thrum of her body, the ghost of the sensations easing off as her heart rate returns to normal. She finally gives a sigh and turns her head to press a kiss to O’s cheek where he rests his chin on her shoulder. 

“Come on,” she finally mumbles, “We should probably get off the floor.”

Her legs are wobbly when she stands, and she hisses a bit, holding the cloth between her legs. “It’s still burning…”

“Should probably bath it off. Wash. Wash the bath. No.” He waves a hand as if searching the the words and Thea blinks at him. 

“Wash it off in the bath?”

He points a finger at her. “ _ Yes _ .... I didn’t think this through.”

“Huh?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Nevermind.” He looks a bit odd, swaying slightly on his feet, but then his hand is on the small of her back and he’s turning her, guiding her out of the kitchen and up the stairs, and Thea expects he’s just a little post-orgasmic delirious like she feels. 

The bath is heavenly. She has to sink down in cool water first, batting O’s hands away from the hot tap, and just sitting there a moment, eyes closed as she enjoys the soothing cool where she’d been burning hot. It’s heavenly, and the burn goes completely, leaving her feeling relaxed and satisfied by the time she’s let him top the bath up with hot and both of them are reclined in it together. 

There isn’t much room, and their legs tangle together where they’re squashed in facing each other, but Thea doesn’t mind. She wriggles her toes against O’s side and grins when he shudders away from the tickling and bats at her. He’s let his head drop back against the rim of the tub and his eyes are closed, allowing Thea’s gaze to drift over his bare form appreciatively. 

“Well,” she says. “ _ You _ can explain to Margaret why we didn’t make the bake sale today.” She’s less mad about that than she should be. 

“Can still go,” he mumbles. “S’not til… later?”

She hums. “Mmm but I’ll never get my gingerbread baked on time now and I can’t turn up to a bake sale empty handed. Especially as I promised to bring something  _ and _ help set up.” She sighs and prods him with her foot. “You’re terrible.”

He smiles but doesn’t reply, and Thea tilts her head as she watches him carefully. He’s being… strange. 

“Are you okay?”

“Mmm,” he replies. 

“Sure?”

He cracks open an eye and grins at her. “Never better.” His grin turns to something of a giggle, and his eyes slide closed again. Thea’s brow furrows.    
“Can feel y’staring. At me,” he mumbles after a moment. 

“Just… you’re sure you’re okay? You seem… I don’t know. Off.”   
O gives a sigh, and there’s a pause before he answers. 

“I’m allergic,” he says, head tilted back against the edge of the tub and eyes closed. “To the ginger.”

Thea’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“Mmm. S’not bad. Just… makes me a little dizzy.”

“Darling you should’ve said,” she fusses, scooting over to him in the tub. She lifts a hand out of the water to press it to his forehead and he jumps before batting her off. 

“M’fine. It’ll pass.”

Bottom lip between her teeth, she looks at him carefully. “You’re slurring,” she worries, taking his face in her hands. “And your eyes look kind of... unfocused. It’s not dangerous is it? Your allergy? How bad is it? Can you tell how many fingers I’m holding up?”

He bats her hand aside. “Doctor, I’m  _ fine _ . Don’t fuss.”   
She huffs. “You don’t need to be sarcastic - I’m only worried about you.”

He blinks at her. “Huh?”

“Calling me doctor,” she rolls her eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

There’s a pause as her husband stares at her with his mouth open. 

She frowns. “What?”

“I did that?”

“Yes you did. Maybe we should get you out of the tub and into bed…”

He seems to give himself a shake. “No bed. S’only after… after-time…”

“Afternoon?”

“Yes. That.”

“Just a nap, darling,” Thea insists. “You really don’t look good.”

“S’worth it,” he grins lazily at her, and she huffs out a laugh. 

It’s hard work to heave him out of the tub and he isn’t much help. He wraps his arms round her and kisses her neck when she sits him down on the edge of the bath and plays with her hair when she tries to towel him dry. When she pulls him to his feet, a towel tucked around herself and tries to do the same to him he bats her off, waving his flaccid penis at her with a giggle as she fusses. 

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was drunk. 

He couldn’t have ingested  _ that _ much of the ginger, it was only the residue that had, uh… been left on her. She doesn’t know what kind of allergy he has but she hopes there aren’t any other side effects. 

Thinking it best to check, she pulls the towel she’s wrapped round his waist open when she’s got him into bed. 

“You doing?” He mumbles, batting at her hands as she gently touches his cock. “Gerroff…”   
“Making sure you haven’t come out in a rash or anything.” She pushes his hands away firmly. “Let me look.”

“I’m  _ fine _ .”

“You’re not fine,” she argues, “You seem really out of it…”

“S’normal. Promise.” He makes a cross sign over his heart with a grin and she rolls her eyes. He grabs her arm suddenly, and Thea gives a yelp as he tugs her down, sending her tumbling down on top of him. 

“Oscar!”

“Stay.”

“I need to go and finish my baking…”

“Said you weren’t going,” he protests, arms wrapping tightly round her so she can’t escape. She sighs and gives up struggling, relaxing where she’s sprawled across him. 

“No, but I still have a tonne of gingerbread dough made downstairs. May as well get it baked. Although I’m assuming you won’t be able to eat any so seems like kind of a waste now…”

“Can,” he mumbles. “Just makes me…” He waves a hand above his head, waggling his fingers and Thea chuckles softly. 

“Evidently.”

“Made you like that too.”

She frowns in confusion. “No it didn’t.”   


“Did.” He snakes a hand between her legs and squeezes her gently as she gives a little yelp. “ _ Here _ .” He bursts into giggles and Thea finds herself laughing along with him as she plucks his hand from between her legs.

“Come on,” she says patiently. “Have a nap and then hopefully you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Yes  _ Doctor, _ ” O says, then lets out another giggle. 

“Alright, enough of that. You’re hilarious,” she answers dryly. 

He seems terribly amused, sniggering away to himself as Thea heaves him onto his side so she can yank the blankets out from under him and nudge him beneath them. She settles down with him, resigning herself to remaining here at least until he’s fallen asleep, fitting herself more comfortably into his arms. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” She frets. 

“Mmm,” he hums. “Just fine.” His fingers card through her hair and she sighs, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Thea,” he mumbles after a minute. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

She smiles. “Go to sleep love.”

“ _ No _ but… I  _ really _ love you… not just - just because you’re my wife. Loved you before that. Always loved you.”

“That’s lovely to know darling,” she says patiently, and leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I love you too.”

He gazes up at her with those dark eyes of his wide. “You do?”

“Mhm. Course I do. Now sleep.”

She reaches down to stroke her fingers through his dark hair, propped up next to him on an elbow as he watches her quietly. 

“Would you love me if I wasn’t me?”

She tries not to laugh. “That’s a silly question. I love  _ you _ not somebody else.”

“No but - if I was still  _ me _ but not…  _ me _ . Not this me. Another me.”

She smiles patiently and leans down to press a kiss to his lips. “No more ginger for you, I think.”

He pouts up at her. 

“But s’good…”

“I’m not sure it is if it makes you like this. It’s a very… strange allergic reaction to something. It’s like you’re out of it.”

“ _ Naaah _ , I’m  _ fine _ ,” he argues. 

“Okay darling. Probably best to be on the safe side, though.”

“Can I still use it on you?” He slurs, grinning lazily up at her, and Thea bites her lip as she smiles. “You liked it,” he accuses smugly, pointing a finger at her nose with one eye shut. “Maybe… maybe next time I’ll find a bigger bit… fuck you with it instead.”

She gasps softly, and presses her thighs together beneath the covers. O tugs her down and his lips find her neck, then his tongue, and Thea sighs quietly. 

“Stop it you,” she murmurs. “I need to bake and you need to rest.”

“Mmm,” he agrees, and flops back with a sigh. A grin tugs at the corners of his lips as his eyes slide closed. “Yes Doctor.”   
Thea rolls her eyes. She doesn’t know why he finds that so amusing, but she can’t help the smile that finds its way onto her own lips as she gazes down at him. 

She leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead, then realising he’d drifted off, slips out of bed, leaving her husband to sleep with a soft smile still in place on his lips. 

Thea dresses quickly and glances at the clock as she makes her way downstairs. She probably  _ could _ still make the bake sale if she hurried… but there was no way she was going to be able to bring her gingerbread biscuits with her without blushing red down to her toes. 

—

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert: he's not allergic ;) (ginger is just like alcohol to time lords, if you didn't know😂)
> 
> If you read this I really hope you liked it! Please please leave me a comment and let me know!? I have missed writing these two soo much, so there could be another fic or two in me about them, if people are interested.
> 
> ❤️


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